Nescience
by Tsuyunoinochi Koukyo
Summary: A continuation of Darkest Hour. As I am replanning these chapters, this story is currently discontinued.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_Bill came over to my side of the bed and sat down, his hands folded in his lap, his head lowered._

_ "What is it?" I asked. His curious behavior made my heart beat faster. Slowly, he raised his head and fixed his eyes on me-eyes full of sadness and pain._

_ "I've got to tell you something. I've not been solely conducting business on my trips, especially the trips to Richmond. I've been gambling and…carousing."_

It was during one of these trips to Richmond, one of his carousing trips, that he drank too much…and thus I was born, Adamantine Cornelius Martin.

**Author's Notes: I'm sorry this was so short! It was just the prelude to something, and I wanted to see if the idea was good or not. Then again that really doesn't reveal the idea…okay, so what the point of this is…it's Adamantine's story, basically. He goes to find Bill, he loses his mother…you know, basic V.C. Andrews, including the complications and all. You'll see, it'll be awesome! I just have to work on it some more…I just started the first chapter this afternoon and with all the homework I've had lately…I think this update will be awhile. But I'll try my best to get some of it done! After all, cliffhangers and uncontinued stories get annoying after a while…I should know. :) Anyway, so tell me where you think this will be going, and until then hope for the next chapter!!!**


	2. The Beginning of my Life

Chapter 1: The beginning of my life

Way back, when I was a toddler no more than 3 or 4, my mother told me the truth of my birth. That she and another man were drunk and I was made. She didn't give me too many details other than that, except for my father's name-Bill Cutler-and the fact that he deserted us. She said he didn't live too far away from us in Richmond, but when I mentioned visiting him, she withdrew herself from my presence, as if suggesting visiting him was unmentionable. I hadn't the faintest idea then of why she seemed to hate him so, but even at 4, I sensed that eventually I would find out.

All through my life, I sensed with knowledge of a teenager that my mother despised me somehow. Sometimes she would simply glare at me for a while, other times when I would enter the room she would quickly exit. Sometimes, in my childhood years, I would wail when she glared at me until she either slapped me hard across the face or screamed at me and ran from the house, holding her ears tightly and screaming "I can't do this anymore!" She left me alone for days at a time when she ran from the house like that, forcing me to live alone for a little while until she decided to come back to me and start anew.

As I grew older however, her days of deserting me grew into weeks, into months. She lost her jobs as quickly as she gained them, and therefore leaving me penniless during many of her night sprints from the tiny 2 bedroom house we shared. I ended up having to go to neighbor's houses when her trips were longer, claiming to them that my mother was out with someone and had neglected me. They took me in until my mother came home, usually, and then they handed me back and chewed her out for deserting me. She never listened to them.

Other times, when my mother wasn't drunk or out with her endless line of boyfriends, she could be the nicest person on the face of the planet. She would buy me a new outfit, taking me by the hand and pulling me through stores, showing me clothes she thought would look cute on her, bragging about her figure so childishly sometimes I think she thought she was talking to another female. She might as well have been, since she called me by the female version of my name a lot and I looked somewhat like a porcelain doll with my pale, unbroken skin, my tiny figure, and the black curls that hung about my face. I was 10, unstung by acne or facial hair, looking my best.

One of the other things my mother would do for me on her good days-which were unfortunately becoming rarer and rarer as my age progressed-was take me to art museums. My interest in the arts was becoming larger every minute of the day; I was so fascinated by the talents of the artists before me in the museums. I had begun to sing as well, and my voice range was rapidly increasing. I had also started to paint and to write as well. I wanted to dance, but my mother called it a 'girl's sport' and strongly refused to get me lessons, claiming that her son would not turn into a female, despite the fact that he resembled one (she just had to point that out each and every day). She actually tried to get some of her male friends to talk to me about 'male things.' Dating, sports, video games, television, comic books, practical jokes, everything a boy should be into. Supposedly. I couldn't understand why she was so worried about my image then; I was only 10 years old. I didn't know that what I did reflected on my mother, and that she was getting teased about what I did; my musical influences. Apparently it wasn't cool for me to be into such things.

I remember asking my mother about my real father when I was older. Obviously, I didn't recall what she told me in my earlier years, and I wanted to know, naturally. When I asked her, her eyes became foggy and far away…perhaps she was recalling happier times with my mysterious father. I wonder now if she saw him in me…just a little. Was that why she resented me?

Flashback:

"Hey Momma?" I walked up to my dark haired mother as she lifted her black eyeliner pencil from the desktop. Why she wore as much makeup as she did, I never knew. She was beautiful without it, and too made up with it on. Sometimes I thought her ridiculous.

"What is it?" she asked harshly in a tone not even used for a naughty child.

"Who…who is Daddy? Where is he, and why isn't he here? I know you told me when I was little, but I can't remember a word." I asked her, not sensing that she would slam her pencil down, her makeup half done, and turn to me with a fiery glare in her emerald eyes.

"Why do you ask?" she demanded.

"I just…wanted to know. Shouldn't a boy know who his father is?"

"Well…" her face softened, nonetheless looking frightening because of the half-completed makeup.

"How was I born?" I asked suddenly.

"How?" she thought for a moment, motioning for me to sit down next to her while she thought of a suitable answer. "Adamantine, when a man and woman love each other they get together and…"

"I know all that already!" I snapped. "But…did you really love him? Then why isn't he here with us?"

She sighed, lowering her eyes to the mahogany tabletop of her vanity table.

"No, Adama, I did not love him. At the time, I thought I did…but he only charmed me into believing such a thing. I was stupid in believing in thinking we could be together."

"Weren't you drunk?" I asked. She gazed at me thoughtfully, and I could see the question in her eyes. Quickly embarrassed, I explained how I knew. "I…I overheard you telling someone that on the phone."

At last she smiled, turning to me and running her soft hand through my short black hair (of which had been recently cut), ruffling it a bit.

"I see." She turned back to her makeup table, grabbing a lipstick. "You know, you would have made a very pretty girl."

I understood what she was saying once more: That if I was a girl things between her and me would be different. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible, and she knew it. Yet as much as she yearned for a female child, whenever she caught me doing something a girl would do, she would reprimand me. That was something I did not understand.

"Momma," I spoke up, interrupting her from her makeup again. "Tell me again how I was born. How my father charmed you."

"Well…I suppose I could. Let me finish my makeup first." I nodded and waited patiently, gazing at my own reflection in her wide mirror. I realized then that my features were feminine, even more so than my mother's without all of her makeup. I compared my features and hers, finding identical noses and lips, but the rest of my face was different from hers. While her beautiful emerald eyes were round like a button, mine were almond shaped and black colored.

Her neck and mine were similar, long and thin, like a ballerina's neck. I also seemed to have her soft shoulders. I had her deep raven black hair color, but the texture of our hair seemed different. I also had a little of her voice, smooth, creamy, light, and feathery. Then again, I was a child. I also seemed to have inherited her pale complexion, but I wasn't too sure since she always wore makeup to cover her faults. I also had a natural rose to my cheeks that she didn't possess, but tried to achieve every morning.

A moment later, my mother lowered her lipstick to the wood and turned to me finally.

"Now, your father was a man named Bill Cutler. He is a very powerful man these days, you know. He runs a hotel near Virginia Beach called Cutler's Cove."

I would remember that fact forever.

"Anyway, I was working at a bar in Richmond, when one day this man comes up. He's very handsome, with eyes that glint like a child ready to spread mischief and beautiful blonde hair. You inherited the texture of it, you know.

"Well, this man introduces himself to me as Bill Cutler. He asks if I want to get a drink, and since my shift was almost over I agreed. A few hours later, we were drunk. He took me to his hotel room and we made love, whispering vows of love forever in the other's ear."

"And when do I come in?" I asked, eager to know.

"Well, you were made that night, the beginning of September, 1899. Sometime later in 1900, you were born. And now here you are."

I never thought once about my mother being weak then. I was happy-go-lucky, ever questioning my mother's actions, no matter how thoughtless they were, no matter what the consequences turned out to be.

But I would grow up to resent her for her weakness.


	3. Eternally Alone

Chapter 2: Eternally Alone

My sixteenth birthday was coming soon. I wasn't a female as my mother so despised, so I wasn't going to receive a sweet sixteen party. Mother said we didn't have enough money to waste on an event that no one would attend anyway. I knew that was true…I wasn't fairly popular at my high school. I preferred the loner path….which is what I was.

So I went through the remaining two weeks until my birthday with a stolid demeanor, accepting the loneliness that draped over me without resistance. No one offered a single 'Happy birthday, Adamantine!' to me-not even a teacher. It seemed that I had been forgotten, tossed aside like a piece of garbage or an unwanted toy. I seemed to exist no longer.

Coincidentally, I received homework on my birthday. As I walked home to work on it, I saw some kids from school joking around in front of my house. The group consisted of two boys, Ryuichi Sekien, Mark Daniels, and twin females Marissa and Jessica Jackson. The girls with backward embraced with the guys and they were all smiling and laughing. As I approached, they saw me and quickly scattered, the boys yelling a few words I care not to repeat.

I stepped up to the abused door, not surprised to find it locked. I sighed and pulled a single silver key from my pocket, inserting it into the keyhole. The door swung open and I quietly slid into the house, silently dropping my backpack onto the sofa just inside the doorway. Then I closed the door behind me, grabbing my key from the lock and throwing it onto a coffee table. Then I walked over to the mirror against the wall in front of me, watching my disheveled reflection. I pushed back my shoulder length black hair, examining a bruise on my neck that my hair covered.

I had decided two years ago to let my hair grow out. I wasn't sure why at the time…it was just a choice that I made. Now I was hastily growing sick of it. Winter would be ending soon, and I didn't need my hair sticking to my neck and face again.

(Maybe I should cut it short today…I'm sure Mother wouldn't mind. She isn't home most of the time anyway, always out with one of her boyfriends. She disgusts me…I'm surprised that she hasn't had another baby yet.)

I sighed and produced a ponytail holder from my pocket, pulling my hair back while I headed to the kitchen. Tiredly pulling open the refrigerator door, I examined the contents of it and finally decided on some coffee. I closed the door and walked to the pantry when I spotted a messily written note taped to the freezer. At first I thought it was my mother's grocery list, so I ignored it and continued toward the pantry, pulling some French Vanilla coffee from it. As I prepared it, I took another glance at the note. Curious, I finally pulled it down from the freezer and read it, my eyes widening at every word.

Dear Adamantine,

I have gone away from here., I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave you alone like this, and on your birthday of all days! But my fiancée doesn't know I have children…and I'd like to keep it that way. So I leave you in the hands of your father, Bill Cutler. He's at the Cutler's Cove hotel; you can find it yourself. I've left you some money in your room on your dresser. I wish you good luck and I hope I'll be able to meet you again someday without the pressures of being a mother to you. Goodbye, my beautiful son, have a great life.

Mother

I stood there shaking, reading the note once more. Tears began to rapidly fill my eyes and I ran from the kitchen, racing up to my mother's room and burying myself in her bed sheets, smelling her lavender perfume. And there I stayed for the rest of the night, neglecting my half-made coffee on the countertop downstairs.

I didn't return to school the next day, either. It wasn't like anyone would notice my being gone anyway. No one knew I was there in the first place. I spent most of the day in my bed, weeping until I could cry no longer. Back when I was a child, my mother forbid me to cry, saying I was a boy and boys didn't cry. And so my tears from the scrapes and pain I felt back then came out now, rebelling against my mother's ever-present rule of no tears. At last I got up and went downstairs, my face streaked with tears. I saw my coffee from the night before still sitting on the countertop, abandoned. Moving slowly, I dumped it down the drain and washed the cup out, thinking about my mother. How could she just desert me, her flesh and blood, like that? Was I as I thought, too painful for her to look at? Had she run off with my father, and she was waiting at Cutler's Cove for me, ready to open her arms to me when I arrived? Would I ever see her again? And if I did, would we recognize each other? I knew that at 16, I would do a lot of changing and growing. When I finally did meet her again, if I ever did, would she…would she know me?

I couldn't bear this pain anymore…so I dropped to the floor, sobbing against my will. I tried to stay strong…tried to tell myself that boys don't cry…but I couldn't stop. My hair fell into my face, but I didn't brush it away. I let go of the coffee cup that still rested in my hand, and it shattered on the floor next to me. I fell backwards onto my back, letting my head smash against the concrete of the floor and roll to the side. It felt cold against the side of my face, and new tears sprung to my eyes.

After a while I sat up, my tears dried. I slowly stood up and I walked up the stairs nearby, heading for the shower. After stripping off my clothes, I looked at my face in the mirror. Gone was the boy I had been before, arrived was the man I had much too quickly become. My face was creased with depression and sadness, the boyish, chubby cheeks gone. My eyes were already deeply set back, the lack of sleep leaving them half closed and dark ringed. My hair was in knots, and I had the feeling I wasn't going to be brushing it for a while, or would care to. My muscles had filled out to those of a man's physique. My waist was still rather small, but it was muscular. My wrists were tiny, much too small. My neck was still long and seemly, still like before. I had a dancer's body, unfortunately. I had given up on my artistic ideas long ago, when my mother's boyfriend Chuck Davis-a 30 something has-been-persuaded me into karate, some type of Asian fighting style.

After a while, tears began to streak down my pale face once more as a new reality sunk in: that my mother, the woman who had raised me for my entire life, the only caring person I knew, had left me to fend for myself. I stepped into the shower, turning on the water and letting it run, full blast and steaming hot, onto my face, mixing with my tears, washing them away. The water fell over me, wrapping me in its warm blanket of ecstasy.

As I switched off the water, I heard the doorbell ring. I grabbed my robe off the bathroom door and slipped it on quickly, running down the stairs. As I tied it shut, I opened the door…and there stood Morgana Tilley, one of my classmates.

"Hey." She smiled at me, flashing pearly white teeth.

"…Hi." I frowned, suddenly feeling naked under her gaze. I pulled the white terrycloth robe around me tighter.

"So you weren't in school today." She gazed at me, flashing her blue eyes.

"…No."

"Why not?"

"…Family problems."

"Oh." She stood there for a moment, gazing around nervously. "Can I come in?"

"Huh? Oh, sure…" I opened the door wider and she slipped past me, flopping down on the couch heavily. I closed the door behind her and moved in front of her, folding my arms on my chest and watching her inquisitively.

"So…this is your house? Where are your parents?" She smiled at me again, brushing back her waist length bleached blonde hair from her face.

"My father is in Virginia somewhere and my mother…I don't know where she is."

"Oh…wow. Tough family." As she threw another smile in my direction, I felt something churn.

(Uh oh…)

She dropped something metallic on the floor and bent down to retrieve it, revealing pretty much her entire bosom in her tiny tube top. The promise of sexual activity hardened me, and I scowled, turning sideways to avoid her. She sensed my discomfort and stood up, walking towards the window blinds and closing them. Then she walked up to me, rubbing her body up against mine.

"Why are you here?" I asked her, my voice shaking as she breathed onto my neck.

"Oh, I just wanted to have a little…fun." She smiled again, lowering her hands to my waist. Caught up in the action, I lowered my lips to her neck, ignoring the screaming inside my head. She moaned and pulled my towel from my body as I unwrapped her from the confines of her clothes.

"Do you…honestly want this?" I asked her, my eyes narrowing.

"Of course I do." She breathed, kissing me, slipping her tongue into my mouth. Then she looked down, squealing happily at the sight of my hardness, leaning down towards it.

We were both breathing hard, tired from the event. She wrapped herself in my arms, her body warm against mine. All of a sudden, I felt this incredible feeling of guilt wash over me, this incredible feeling of anger.

"Hey Adamantine, was I your first?" Morgana asked me, turning towards me and dragging her fingers down my chest.

"…No." I admitted quietly.

"I knew it! I knew you've done this sort of thing before! How many times? Do you know?" She asked, excited from some unknown factor.

"…Seven."

"Ooh, no wonder you were so experienced! I was your eighth time?" She asked, looking at me expectantly.

"No…it's been seven different girls…I don't know how many times with each of them." Her questions made me blush, and I turned away from her.

"You wore protection every time, right?"

"…No."

"Did you ever get a girl pregnant?"

"…Yes."

"What happened?"

"She died at childbirth."

"And the baby?"

"…My mother got rid of it."

"Oh…you didn't wear protection this time, did you?" I heard a note of fear in her voice.

"…No."

"What…what if I get pregnant?!"

"Not my problem. You're the one who persuaded me, remember?"

"I flip my hair, smile, and lean over and you get an erection! How is your being so weak my problem?!" She stood up and began to dress.

"Who came over to my house uninvited?" I asked hotly, keeping my calm as I slipped my robe back on.

"Who went along with my advances?" She asked smartly, looking me defiantly in the eye with certainty that I couldn't reply.

"You know very well that most males can't control themselves when an erection hits. And don't you tell me that you had no clue, I can tell that you get around enough to know."

She angrily stomped her foot at me, and her childishness brought a smile to my face.

"Are you calling me a slut?!" She screamed at me.

"No. Just…sexually experienced."

I knew that I got nasty after making love. I wasn't sure why, but every time I finished, I just got all…pissed off. I reminded myself of a girl when that happened…I guess it might be because I was raised by a girl, I looked like a girl, and I was called 'girly' every day of my life. Perhaps the idea was sinking into my head?

"Speak for yourself. For your information, that was my first time." She admitted, stepping towards the door.

"Congratulations." I said without feeling. "Welcome to the cycle of never ending sex." I walked over to the window blinds, opening them quietly. Morgana watched me with curiosity, wondering how a 16 year old could be so casual about such a subject, I'm sure.

"A-Adamantine…" She started shakily.

"Weren't you just angry at me a moment ago?" I reminded her.

"Listen to me!" She cried, tears falling from her face. "Why…why are you being so mean?! You know this is my first time…and Adamantine, I'm scared! Why are you being so nonchalant about this?! I don't want a child to ruin my life, okay?! I wouldn't mind having a child with you later on in life, but now…right now I need to focus on my career!"

(She…she wants to have my children?!)

I stepped back, shocked.

"Look…I'm sorry for snapping at you like that." I said quietly. "I'm used to someone just getting mad and leaving, then coming back a week later when she's had time to unwind. I've got a curse put upon me, I suppose…"

"Well, I'll leave now. I suppose you need a shower." She smiled at my sweat stained hair, matted to my forehead. "But I'll come back when you least expect it! And come back to school?"

"I'll try." I told her, showing her out the door.

"I'm looking forward to my next visit." She said, leaning forward and kissing me.

"As am I."

After shutting the door, I glanced at the floor where she and I had been making love. Despite her claims to have been a virgin, I didn't believer her. For she was much too experienced, much too calm at the beginning.

And there was no blood on the floor.

I frowned, knowing that she wouldn't come back. I had to leave, anyway. My mother was waiting for me, waiting to surprise me at Cutler's Cove.

And she would say 'Welcome home, my darling Adamantine! I am glad to see you are here! This is your father, Bill Cutler. He has invited us here for one reason: so we can be one big, happy family!

(Yeah right…good things like that just don't happen…they aren't that simple. Nothing is that simple.)

I felt a sudden rush of tiredness come over me, and I decided on taking a nap before showering and packing for Cutler's Cove. On my way upstairs, I wondered if by leaving Richmond I was leaving my destiny, changing it some way. What if I was deserting my destiny? What if I was never meant to leave Richmond?

I yawned, too tired to think. Twice I almost fell up the stairs because my eyes couldn't stay open. Twice I caught myself.

Finally, I reached my own bed, the fluffy blue pillows and multiple blue blankets looking rather comfortable. I let myself fall into the sheets, letting the blankets engulf me, swallow my tears and my sorrow that dripped from me like hot syrup. I fell asleep instantly.

In the morning, I readied myself to leave for Cutler's Cove. What would my father say upon my arrival? Would he let me stay? Or would he deny that he was my father? So many questions…and the only way to get the answers would be to go to Cutler's Cove. But I was still a bit uncertain…I wanted to be accepted by my father, and not put down or discarded.

What would I say when I got there? "Hi, I'm your son, I haven't seen you for 16 years but I'm here now?" Why go at all? He probably has a family by now. Me coming back would most likely ruin his life, and then I would never be accepted. Maybe it would be easier to stay here, to use the money my mother had left me for continuing my education. Maybe I didn't need parents.

Still, while I pondered over going or not, I packed my things and carried them to the door, contradicting whatever negative thoughts I had.

Guess I'm going…only I won't be able to turn back once I get there… 

And so I finished packing quickly and walked to the shower, stripping off my clothes once more. I could smell Morgana's perfume all over me; she must have doused herself in it before she came here. I still couldn't believe that I had made love to her…it had all seemed like a bad dream at the time. But here her scent was all over me, in my hair, dripping off my skin…the sickeningly sweet lilac scent made me ant to regurgitate what little I had eaten for breakfast.

Finally, I stepped into the shower and turned the water on once more. The heat from the liquid that spewed from the fosset hit my body and wrapped me in its comforting and warm blanket again.

Out of the shower and fully dressed with my hair still sopping wet, I was ready to leave. Was I beginning a new destiny or continuing my old one? An unanswered question, perhaps it would remain that way.

I had to walk to the train station since Mother nor I had ever owned a car. It was two miles away, unfortunately. But I didn't mind walking. I had packed light anyway, knowing that I would have to walk to the station, and the walking gave me valuable time to think. About my mother, her whereabouts, how my father would react to me…would he even know about me? I wondered if my mother told him that he had a child with her. Maybe she kept her pregnancy a secret, hidden from him…maybe to him I did not exist.

I reached the train station and I rode to Virginia Beach, then I walked to Cutler's Cover using the directions that the conductor had given me. And all of a sudden I was there, at Cutler's Cove!

It was a magnificent white building that loomed over my head, surrounded by various flowers, plants, trees, so much greenery that it made my head spin. Groundskeepers mowed the lawns, birds chirped in the trees…yet to me, it looked slightly ominous. This place could be either the home of my dreams or of my nightmares. I sincerely hoped it wouldn't be the latter.

**Author's Notes: Sorry that took so long!!! I've been so busy gathering lyrics lately though that I haven't had too much time to type…just got over a case of writer's block too. Anyway, the third chapter of this should be coming fairly soon because it's almost all typed up on the other computer…yeah. I've got to go, but I hope you enjoyed this!**


	4. Doors of Destiny

Chapter 3: Doors of Destiny

"Sir, can I help you?" A woman asked at the counter as I approached.

"Um…yes. Could I see Bill Cutler, please?" I replied to her question, honestly hoping he wouldn't be there.

"…Mr. Cutler is away on business in Richmond, sir."

"Oh, I see. Can I make an appointment?" I silently cheered, glad that he wasn't there. I didn't think I could face him, not right now.

"Yes. Mr. Cutler is free on…the 12th. You would like to make an appointment for that date?" She smiled at me, a flirting smile. She did't look too bad…pretty blonde hair cut short, a mouth filled with sparkling white teeth surrounded by full lips smeared with sheer pink gloss, long French manicured nails, a young face, hazel eyes…she looked about 20 years old.

"Yes please."

"Would you like a room?" Another smile.

"Um…yes." I pushed my hair out of my face, silently reminding myself to cut it. I reached into my pocket to produce the money my mother had left me. Since I had walked for a lot of my trip, I still had a great deal of money remaining.

The room wasn't fairly expensive, I wondered if the woman at the counter had reduced my bill. Before I had left towards my room-549-she had given me her name and room number, telling me to come by sometime. Surprise her. I honestly concidered it, seeing as my trip was extremely uneventful in that aspect. I SWEAR I wasn't sex-crazy then, just lonely. Very lonely.

Anyway, after putting away what little I had brought, I decided I needed something to do. I had seen a swimming pool on the way in; I figured I could hang out there for a while. I'd need to buy suntan lotion, of course, since my pale skin only burned, never tanned. If I would have lacked hair, I would have almost been Albino.

The water felt cool against my bare chest and arms, cool and calming. The children that dotted the pool's edges were for the most part quiet, seeming unafraid of the water. No babies cried, no kids screamed when their wishes were unfulfilled, no loud talking or laughing interrupted the clam silence of the pool's atmosphere. All seemed still. I laid my head back and relaxed, feeling my tense, stiff body relax.l My mind wandered to my mother. She still could be here. She still had a chance to redeem herself, to take me with her whenevershe intended to go. Then I recalled the note she had written to me, the note she had cruelly taped to the freezer door.

'But my fiancee diesn't know I have children…'

She was getting married…I had another father and I didn't even know his name. And he didn't know that he would have a son soon. How sad for both of us…

"Hey, watch out mister!" A childish voice called. I shook myself from my thougts in time to see a plastic beach ball soaring towards my head. I ducked into the water as it whizzed past my head into the water below. I emerged from below the water, shaking out myhair and reaching for the blue beach ball. I turned around, ball in hand, to a young boy about 13 years old. He reached out for the ball and I handed it to him, examining him as I did. He had brown hair cut short, rather tanned skin, a devilish child's grin, and dark eyes that matched my own. They scanned me seriously, his grin becoming stiff.

"Are you okay mister?" He asked me, his eyes on my face, studying me intently.

"Yes, I am fine." I nodded, looking down at the water.

"Why is your hair so long?" He asked outright. My face reddened and I opened my mouth to speak when a woman's scolding voice interrupted me.

"Now, now Randolph, you don't ask questions like that! Say you're sorry." She had a motherly affection in her voice.

"Sorry." The boy frowned, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly. He looked upset.

"I apologize for his rudeness. I'm Lillian, his mother." She offered her hand and I took it, shaking it slowly, paying attention to the softness of her skin. "What is your name?"

"Adamantine Martin. Pleased to make your acquantance." I said, choosing my words carefully.

"That's a funny name." Randolph remarked. Lillian smacked his rear and he frowned again, as if getting reprimanded was the worse thing that could happen to him ever.

"Sorry. Again." He ran off to play before he would do something else to upset his mother.

"That boy is out of control sometimes." She remarked with a half smile on her faultless face.

"It's alright. My hair and my name seem to attract attention a lot." I told her, my eyes on the ground once more. She looked down at me, studying me.

"So what brings you to Cutler's Cove?" She asked finally, kneeling down to me, her smile warm and friendly. I felt a shiver run throughout my body, and the water was beginning to get cold.

"…Some family business." I said.

"Ah. Family reunion?"

"…Sort of."

"You can book the dining room for your family if you'd like."

"No, it's fine. Really." No emotion entered my voice. She seemed taken aback, put off by my coldness.

"If you will excuse me, Miss, I should be getting back to ny room." I began to swim toward the rail leading out from the pool.

"Goodbye then." She smiled warmly at me, then went off, most likely searching for her son's whereablouts. I ducked under the water's surface, reaching the metal exit ladder quickly. I climbed out and walked over to my towel, wrapping it around my shoulders, feeling the stinging pain when it touched my shoulder. I glanced at the body part and quickly realized I had sunburn, despite all of the sunburn I had slathered on my body.

The shower felt cool. It stung when my sunburned places were hit, but I enjoyed the stinging pang, probably because I had been hurt so much this felt like nothing.

I wondered why Lillian had been so friendly to me. It couldn't possibly be because she liked me, could it? No, she had a son…which meant she had a husband. Anyway, I had seen her disapproving gaze of my hair and my eyes, and my coldness had certainly offended her. Why was she so nice, then? Why did she carry on a conversation when she could have easily left?

The bed was soft and comforting, but yet I couldn't sleep. It was one of my problems…I couldn't sleep very well sometimes. I thought once or twice about going to that secretary's hotel room, thought of having some fun, but I decided against it then, figuring I didn't need to ruin someone's else's trust in men. I thought about what I would do the next day, figuring that I could use half the day swimming, then I could take a shower and get my hair cut. Then a quick run and sleep. Putting in time for food of course, though I wasn't much of an eater, hence my thin build.

After thinking a bit more, sleep finally did come to me, and when I woke up I headed directly to the pool. Since I had woken up a bit early-6 AM-rarely anyone was in the pool. It was silent and serene, and I relaxed once more. I remained in the pool for about 3 hours, when people started to crowd in and the calm atmosphere was gone. So I climbed out, went to my room and changed, and went for a run. Returned to my room for a shower, and then back outside to the car awaiting me.

On the way there, I got nervous. My hair hadn't been short for quite a while…and so natually I was a little afraid. But if I wanted to make a good impressionwith my esteemed father Bill, then needed to look decent.

(I hope I am not doing all this for nothing…)

The shop was 'cozy,' the ceiling on in anticipation of summer, the smell of hair products meeting my nose upon my enterence in the cheerily decorated glass doorway. A woman came up to me, short and pudgy with thin lips that stretched across her face, brown eyes that sunk into her face, and a small, turned up nose. She could resemble an elephant if she grew a tail.

"Are you Adamantine Martin?" She asked. Her voice was low and sexy, betraying her thick molasses figure.

"Yes." I replied.

She perered up at me, her eyes widening. I frowned, turning my eyes away from her, averting them to the floor.

"A male?" She asked, unbelieving.

"…Yes." I sighed, wanting to walk out on her.

"What…what do you want done?" Her voice was pained now, as if the fact that I was male and yet had a face and hair more girlish than an actual girl.

"Short. I want it short." Was all I said. She grunted.

"S' a shame those ringlets aren't mine. Doncha think I'd look sexy?" I raised an eyebrow at her question, sickened. I wished she wouldn't ask such questions. They were…inappropiate, and most people would leave that little shop in a heartbeat. But me…I was stubborn.

"…Yes." I replied to her question despite my disapproval.

"Atta boy! How old are you?"

"…16, miss." I felt awkward and shy talking to her, a little embaressed.

"Ah, he's polite!" She began to lead me to a chair, holding me tightly by the arm. A few hairdressers looked my way and smiled, obvious "interested" smiles. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered their wings harder.

"So 16, huh? What a ripe age. In my day, people were getting married by then. Having kids, buying a house, you know, that whole thing. A lot of girls were spoiled by the date of their weedings though, sorry to say. I was one of em. Bet you're spoiled too, huh? I can see that guilty look in those pretty eyes of yours I can. Quite a turnon for a girl these days." I felt my face grow hot.

"That's my personal business." I tried to keep calm, tried not to grow angry at her questions.

(Author's Note: By spoiled I don't mean a spoiled brat…I mean like unvirgin like…yeah. I think that's the word they used in the old days.)

"Yeah yeah I know. Guys are so secretive these days! Girls are so open. They don't care about who hears their problems. I'm normally secretive…"

(Yeah, sure you are.)

"…but I'd share my problems with you in a heartbeat, honey. Provided there was a…toy in between us."

At first I didn't understand her, but then it clicked in my head…and I almost leapt out of the chair.

"I hardly think that's appropiate for public!" I cried, leaping from the chair, gazing at her angrily, the blaze in my eyes growing strong.

It was something my mother used to say to men who openly expressed their sexual appetite for her. I was aware that I sounded like a girl saying that as well, but I could care less at the moment.

"Alright, I get it." She frowned and picked up scissors from the marble vanity in front of her. I sank back into the chair, wondering to myself why I was still here. Why I put up with her stupid questions, why I stayed here, enduring everything that was thrown at me.

The woman positioned my head straight, lowering the silver tool to my hair…and the butterflies in my stomach attacked my insides. My nervousness took over my body and I quivered.

"Hey, hey. I haven't cut a single stand and you're quiverin!" The woman exclaimed. A pretty woman came over to us from across another chair, sighing.

"Mother, I'll get him. You go in the back and sort the shampoo, okay?" She had a sexy voice too, similar to her mother's. But she had the body of supermodel, and I imagined her and I in bed together. I imagined her breathing hard, naked in the moonlight, sweat dripping from her body. She would cry out as I slipped inside…I shook my head to rid myself of the dream playing out in my mind, 'awakening' just in time to see the short woman shuffle towards the back of the salon and wink at me before disappearing. The tall and thin woman who had come over to me turned toward me, grinning. Her waist length blonde hair wavered, shining brilliantly in the sunlight coming from the window.

"That's my mother for you." She said. "Um…I'll be with you in a minute, sir, I just have to finish up this customer, and then I'll be with you. Okay?" I nodded, my hopeless mind still in the clouds. I noticed that the top three buttons on her pink satin shirt were open, but I turned my head away, ashamed at myself.

_Man…my sexual appitite must be obvious if every girl looks so hot to me and I had an old lady after me. Wow…I really need to get laid so this stops._

I focused my attention to the young girl across from me, watched her careful snips with the scissors, the precautious way she cut, the gentle way she handled the tool. It looked like she she was cutting a male's hair, for the razor she pulled out next and ran over her customer's head leaving a trail of bare skin…no girl in her right mind would ever get that done. The woman kept her eyes solely focused on her job, letting no one interrupt her.

Finally she was done, and her customer got up, the light shining off the top of his head, I almost laughed at the way he resembled a monk. The man turned around to thank his hairdresser, his brown eyes glinting as bright as his skull. The woman, after cleaning up her area a bit, came over to me, a smile upon her face.

"First things first, my name is Elizabeth. Second, I like to learn about my client before I start and tell them how I work." She said, her green eyes on me.

_Is she really blonde?_

"So, what's your name and how would you like your hair?" She asked me, interrupting my staring contest with the roots of her hair.

"Adamantine Martin and short."

"Awww, short? I'd just hate to cut off those ringlets!" She frowned, thinking. For a second I thought she was going to turn me down and say she was not able to cut my hair. "But it isn't my hair. So how short would you like it?"

"…Just…short."

"No specific length?" I shook my head. She examined my face, trying to determine what would be best for me I suppose. I quickly glanced at the clock on the wall across from me, sighing with disappointment. It was already 3:30 p.m. I had other things to do besides sit in a barber shop and converse with people I didn't know. I didn't want to sit in here too much longer; the fumes of hair care products were making me sick. And not much was getting done anyway, so I wasn't going to wait for much longer.

"I gather you don't have time to deal with your hair?" She asked me, examining the curls with a light in her eyes. What was so enthralling about my hair that everyone had to fawn over it? Why was it so…so attention getting?

"Not normally, no." I replied, remembering Elizabeth had asked me a question.

"Hmmmm…" She studied me harder, so hard that I felt uncomfortable under her seemingly scrutinizing gaze. I wondered if this was how those girls felt when I scritinized them, took advantage of them, played with them like they were my toys.

_Did they really feel like this? So…violated. I…don't like this feeling._

"Okay." She said finally. "I'm thinking a loose cut. Cut the sides and back short but leave some chin length bangs in the front." I nodded, trying to picture myself but not quite comprehending her words. The butterflies churned, but not so much this time.

After a moment, she clamped the scissors down on my hair, letting the ringlet fall to the floor. Already my head felt pounds lighter.

As she cut, she talked. She told me about her desperate mother who'd had a child at fourteen without a husband to support her. She had been unable to find a boyfriend her age after that, so she stuck with the younger men to supposedly make up for that sixteen year old she had never married. It was the same sixteen year old who had made her pregnant. She told me about herself growing up. She asked personal questions about me, about my family, but I was vague, since the idea of family was vague to me as well.

After a while, she had finished. I was numb all over from sitting so still in the chair for such a long time and also from her chatter the entire time; I just wanted to get to the hotel and sleep off my tension and unhappiness.

I looked in the mirror, surprised to see exactly what Elizabeth had said she would do, shaved short on the sides and back with chin length bangs in the front. They fell stubbornly over my eyes, sticking to my forehead.

_Summer…the heat will be a definate problem…I'll have to come up with some solution to that, but that is some time away…and my hair grows much too fast. I'll have to figure something out then…but then is not now._

"Second thoughts? I can alter it if you like." She smiled. "Perhaps a look similar to my client before you?" A joke? No, her face was serious.

_Yeah right…like I could pull that look off._

"I am fine, thank you." I assured her, standing up and trying to ignore the black curls scattered on the floor before me.

"Hey, if you ever need a last minute trim, here's my number…" Elizabeth was writing her phone number on my hand, but I was gazing at my reflection. My disheveled reflection. My body was stiff, my position straight and commanding. My mouth was shaped into a scowl, my lips glossy. My hair sat stiffly on top of my head, unmoving. My eyes seemed to soak in too much at once, giving the impression that I knew too much, that I was older than I really was. They had an adult shine in them, a tragic and glossy shine that showed many tears had been shed before I was due to experience such things.

Sometime later, after hearing Elizabeth ramble on and on about something, I left for Cutler's Cove. Her voice still rang in my ears, the tones I had once thought sexy now terribly annoying, echoing in my ears over and over again. Even as I sat in the cab, all alone besides the cab driver, her voice broke the silence, blabbering endlessly about unimportant things.

I tried to sit back and relax, tried to concentrate on the pounding of the horses' hooves, the rein of the cab driver snapping back and driving the horses further. I imagined the poor beasts were probably tired from working all day, that they probably wanted to go home and go to sleep. I felt the same way, although Cutler's Cove was not yet my home. Would it ever be?

"Kid, we're here." The cab driver said in a monotone voice. He turned around and tapped my shoulder when I didn't reply. I climbed up, handed him money, and left without a word. He gazed after me, but, too tired to care, whipped the horses and headed away, most likely for home.

I went directly to my room, right for my bed, not even bothering to remove my shoes before I fell onto the bed. Before I fell asleep, I glanced at the clock: it was only 7 p.m.

I tossed and turned, waking up every half hour or so. Finally I climbed up from bed and went to the secretary who had given me her room number. She was surprised but pleased to see me, admiring my new hairstyle and then letting me into her room, opening the door to her world. We had fun, as I thought we would, but it meant nothing, which upset me a little. As I climbed into my own bed around 3 a.m., I thought about all the girls back home. Up until now, their names hadn't meant anything to me. They were merely toys who's faces and experiances escaped me. I hadn't given these 'toys' a single thought up until now…but now they filled my head, occupied my every thought. Helen, Terry, Brittany, Paris, Kiersten, Tifani, and Lara…all pretty…at one time, all mine. But I had let each of them go after a month or so of play, moving onto another quickly. I sickened myself, changing my girlfriend all the time just for a little variety. What would I do when the time came for me to settle down, get married? Would I chicken out on that aspect, stay a bachelor for the rest of my life? Would I be a loner, destined for an eternity that consisted of only myself? Or would I manage to change myself, manage to find someone I loved, manage to stand another? I wondered what Fate had decided for me…

The next days passed quickly, and soon enough it was time for me to face my father. I had periodically pondered over what I would say to him…how I would react. How I _should _react. I was seeing my father for the first time in my entire life. He would be seeing me for the first time as well, and he didn't even know he had a child with Melody. Maybe he didn't even remember Melody. Would I be just another person to him? Or would he know as soon as he set eyes on me that I was of his flesh, of his blood?

_It was time soon, _I thought. Stepping out of the shower, I dried off and stepped into my clothes, rushing out of my room to the hotel desk. Butterflies filled my stomach, their wings flapping harder than ever. But I kept my mouth shut, my eyes ahead of me, my back stiffly straight. Despite my strong guise, I knew that this was it. If Bill refused to believe that I was his son, I had nowhere to go. My mother had no family that I knew of, no relation to anyone. She told me when I was 6 years old that she was an orphan. She also told me that she would never desert me the way she was deserted. She said she would never make me an orphan, she would never put me through that pain. But ironically she had, and I felt essentially nothing anymore. An empty area rested in my heart now that my hope for her return had gone away. Had I become heartless and cruel? If I ever had a child, would I desert them too?

Thoughts whirred through my brain as I neared the desk, as I neared the door to my destiny. The receptionist, the same girl who had scheduled me for the appointment in the first place, recognized me and signaled me to a grand set of golden doors down the hall, and I nodded to her, no emotion present in my face. She winked at me, her smile large. I faintly remembered my night with her, how I had forgotten my problems when I went to her, but how they were magnified when I came out. I immediately decided then that the secretary would be the last person I would take advantage of, the last person I shared moments with. The last person's heart I would break. The last straw.

I prepared to enter the large royal golden doors beyond me, the _true_ doors to my destiny.

**Author's Notes: So, what did you think of this chapter? It took me a while to type it cause I didn't have enough patience to complete it. It seemed so long when I was working on it! Anyway, I have the 4th chapter already complete as well; it's really short. And I sincerely apologize for the typing mistakes; I typed this on a computer with no spelling check.**

**Anyway, so I hope you enjoyed this everyone! Hopefully the 5th chapter will be done soon, and the 4th chapter will be up soon! I'm working on chapter 6 at the moment, but I looks like it will be a long one so it might be a while!**

**Aqlright, bye everyone!**


	5. Cherished Meeting

Chapter 4: Cherished Meeting

I stepped inside, my eyes wide in awe at the office spread before me. A large desk sat in the middle of the room, a man sitting in the high backed chair behind it. The room's walls were white, the light streaming in through brown lined windows. The carpet was a rich white as well, a beautiful, plush carpet looking like royalty.

"May I help you?" The man looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowed. I stared at him, dumbfounded beyond normalcy. I gazed at this handsome man who was my father. He had a face similar to mine, rich blonde hair, blue eyes like mine, and he was thin, slender, as was I. I seemed to be a living breathing clone of this man before me, despite the traits of my mother that resided in me. He seemed to notice the physical likeness as well and straightened his back, dropping the pen he was holding to the desktop.

"Mr. Cutler, sir?" I asked, hoping this was the right man. He nodded slowly, unsure of my reason for being here, in his office. When I said nothing, he spoke up.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"M-my name is Adamantine Cornealius Martin. I am the child of Melody Martin." I expected a reaction from him. I got none.

"Who is that?" He asked, on edge a little. I froze, unsure of what to say.

"…16 years ago, you and Melody met in Richmond, Virginia, after having drunk quite a bit." I frowned, waiting for him to realize who I was. He said nothing, just stared blankly at me, waited for me to continue.

"When you got together, you made her…pregnant. Then you left, and months later she was left with a child-me-as a result of her actions." I paused for effect, seeing a light flash in Bill's blue eyes.

"Mr. Bill Cutler, I am your son."

He stared at me, blinking, unmoving, unfazed.

"You do look like me." He said finally. I cheered silently inside, happy I had finally found a place to live, a family to call my own. "_But_, I am afraid I do not know a Melody Martin. You must be mistaken, I am sorry."

My heart fell, my hopes gone, vanished completely. I began to leave as I felt tears springing to my eyes.

"Wait…" He said, sighing. I turned, letting my bangs fall into my face. "I cannot just turn you away. Tell me, why have you come here?"

"My mother…she left me to elope with some man I do not know. She told me to come here, to Cutler's Cove, and find my real father-you."

"Hmmm…well, I would like to verify the facts, but you are welcome to stay here in the hotel until I do. What was your name again?"

"Adamantine Martin." I said, extremely disappointed.

"Ah. Interesting name. Why did she name you that?" He asked, picking up his pen and looking at me expectantly.

"…She said that when she was in the orphanedge, she met a boy named Adamantine. She told me that he was the first person she loved."

_She wanted to attach that love she had for him to me. But…her deserting me proves that she was not able to._

Bill nodded, his face expressionless.

"I see. Well, is that all you wanted?"

I frowned, pausing once more. Was that all I wanted? No! I wanted a reaction, a gleeful expression, an angry glare, something! Instead I got no reaction, just a clam face and an opportunity to stay in the hotel for a little longer. By my father's side.

"Yes, that was all." I told him, turning around to leave.

"Uh, Adamantine?" He called my name and I turned around quickly.

"Yes, sir?"

"I like your hair." He smiled warmly at me, his first sign of affection since I had come in here. I nodded, smiling back.

"Thank you." And then I left. The meeting had ended.

Author's Notes: Sorry that was so short! But I like short chapters; they're easier to read when you're in a hurry, so…

_Okay, so the next two chapters are already written, and by the time I post this two more might be done and the two I have written might be already typed._

_Okay, so I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And tell me if I'm missing something, if the character's reactions weren't real enough, or if I described Bill wrong._

_Oh yes, and soon Lillian will be inroduced! (And hopefully I got her personality right; just remember that this is when Randolph was a child; both Lillian and Bill were only in their thirties!)_

_Alright then, bye! Tsuyunoinochi Koukyo_


	6. A Family to Call My Own

_ Chapter 5: A Family to Call My Own_

A few days later, I got a message saying that Mr. Cutler requested my attendance at a meeting of his, a very important meeting. It was to be this Friday. So I prepared myself for whatever the purpose of this meeting would be-whether Bill would accept or reject me-running longer and more vigorously, getting my hair trimmed once more (already it was growing!) and trying my hardest to keep up on my sleep. Unfortunately, this new excitement kept me up even more, for my mind constantly whirred with ideas and thoughts about the meeting's purpose. I couldn't wait until Friday; I wanted to know what Bill wanted to say to me so badly!

Eventually Friday came after many hours of suffering in anticipation, hours of not sleeping in curiousity. And when Friday came, I was sick. The day before I had gotten some serious sunburn, and then that night I couldn't keep any food down. And surely enough, today I couldn't move a muscle without vomiting up something. So I called for someone to give a message to Mr. Cutler. I told them to tell him that I was much too sick to leave my room, much less the hotel, and that I had to regretfully cancel my presence at the meeting. The woman who had come up for the message nodded understandingly and left the room. I sighed, discusted at myself for getting so sick, for having to stay here and miss that meeting I had been so anxious to attend.

I waited for a bit to see if a message would return, but I accidentally fell asleep, tired from the constant vomiting I had to endure when I reached over for the glass of ginger ale a hotel employee had brought up for me. And of course, like all people do when they fall asleep, I dreamt.

I dreamt about my mother coming back for me, about her new husband accepting me as his son, meeting mr and taking me to ball games like and normal father and son. I dreamt about my past, my mother's rare kind words and gestures, her smile, her laugh…everything that had seemed so trivial, so venial…it all came back to me. And with every memory, my anger rose in waves. Eventually, I got so angry that I tried to get up from the bed I was confined in, tried to overcome my sickness to go out and search for my mother. I overexherted myself so much that I began to throw up, each heave sapping my strength, all my energy…and then with the vomit came blood, lots and lots of blodd. Pouring from my body, shrinking my heart, my lungs, every one of my internal organs shriveled up and faded until I was nothing but a skeleton, still spewing endless vomit mixed with blood, torturing my skeletal frame with each heave. And then ghosts came, the spirits of pale women, women that looking familiar to me-they were the women I once toyed with until I grew tired of them-came, and the chants began. They danced and sang-in Latin, in French, in Japanese, in English…in every language there was. My body began to break apart as they chanted, and blood rushed out even more, torturing me even more harshly. And the chants grew louder and louder, more of me crumbled, more blood came out. The agony grew and grew so much that I opened my skeletal mouth and screamed-a silent scream. My quickly evanescencing throat was no longer able to support sound, and I fell apart from the strain of that very same throat…I screamed again, the sound coming out this time, so loud and overpowering that a liquid sprung up from my throat-a very familiar liquid by this time-blood. I quickly sat up and spewed into the surprisingly empty bucket next to the bed, then I gfazed down at myself. It was all a dream…I still had my skin, my hair, my clothes…and that horrible chanting was gone. I was safely tucked into bed.

I lay back on the pillow, panting.

(What was that dream…? Why did I have it? Was it to tell me something?)

"Are you alright?" A voice asked. I jumped, surprised to hear another voice in the room. I turned my head towards the source of the sound.

"Did you have a bad dream?" The shadowed figure in the corner asked me.

"…Yes." I cautiously gazed into the shadows, unsure as to who the person was. It was a man's voice speaking to me…

(I had…a very bad dream. But a dream was all that it was…and I'm glad it's over.)

The person got up from the chair they had been sitting on, walking over to my bed. It was Bill!

He put a hand on my forehead, smiling.

"I apologize for my ignorance upon our meeting. I was unsure…you must realize and understand, it's not everytday that someone resembling myself comes in claiming to be my son. I was…a little uneasy." He admitted. "I've talked to my wife about you. Apparently, she knows you."

"She does?"

"Yes. Her name is Lillian." He told me.

(Lillian? Oh…that woman from the pool. She had a little boy with her…Randall. I guess…that he's my stepbrother.)

"Oh, yes. Now I remember."

"We have a son named Randolph. He is 13."

"I met him too."

"Yes."

I tried to think of something to say, but my head still spun…so madly my world was twirling about…

"So…" Bill sat down on the edge of the bed and I shifted over to give him room. "How has…your life gone up until now?"

(Does he remember my mother now?)

"…Well…" I stuttered, unable to think of a suitable explanation.

(How can he just…simply ask that question…after so long…?)

"…It has gone all right…up until my mother left, of course…" I finally managed to say. His bright blue eyes bore a hole into my skull. I wanted him to leave…

"How old are you?" He asked.

"16, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir if you don't want to. Bill is fine."

"…If you say so."

"Did your mother date or marry after you were born?" Bill asked.

"She dated all right…but she never married. She couldn't stay with one man long…sorry to say. Which is why I was so shocked to learn that she was getting married…to a man I don't know, even."

"Yes…" He seemed uncomfortable with the subject of my mother now. Did he finally remember who she was? I got a subtle hint to change the subject when Bill removed his hand from my forehead and turned away.

"16…" He was muttering to himself. "It's been that long already…?"

"Sir-uh…Bill-does your wife know that I am…?" I assumed he knew the conclusion to my question.

"No. She thinks that you are the son of my brother, that you were sent here because of his current financial problem."

"What about our resemblance to each other?"

"He is my twin, so it is likely that he would have a son who resembled me."

"You really have a twin?"

"…I did. He died at childbirth. But Lillian doesn't know that, and she never will, hear?" He looked sternly at me, his magnificent blue eyes blazing and narrowing. I nodded innocently, coughing.

"Well…I've got another business meeting tomorrow, so I must pack." He started to climb up from the bed.

"Wait." I said. He paused, not bothering to turn to me. I sensed I had his attension and so I continued. "What about the meeting today? What was it for?"

"Oh…I just wanted to formally introduce you to my wife and child. They wanted to…welcome you to the family." He smiled, and I grinned as well. Then he waved a quick goodbye and left, closing the hotel door behind him. I was left alone, but now I wasn't completely alone-I now had a loving family to call my own.

**Author's Notes: Wow…this chapter seemed to take forever! Anyway, so I don't know how long it will take to put the 6th chapter up…I've been working on many things, including yet another Camui Gackt songfic and various Final Fantasy stories. So I am sorry…this might not be updated in a while,**

**Alright then…I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


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